ref·u·gee
[ref-yoo-jee, ref-yoo-jee] 
Show IPA
yʊˈdʒi Show IPA –noun
1.
2.
"A person who flees for refuge or safety" At the cultural fair I witnessed first hand generations of Montagnard people mingling living freely and openly with the very Americanized population that excitably bull dozed thier way toward there booths of crafts, arts, and food.
What was most strinking was the sameness that I saw in the seemingly American young people and that of the Montagnard youth.
As I walked through the booth area I immediatly caught the eye of a very young, clearly anglo young man and his sister, why we locked eyes so intensly I would never come to find, however I saw that they were accompanied by yet another pair of what I deducted to be siblings, intrestingly this pair was of Montagnard heritage. The young man doned a New York Yankees Cap, the girl complete with her skinny Levi jeans and low top converse looked very contemporary and very for a lack of another word American. What was different was the magnificent elephant bracelet worn by the girl and the Montagnard flag draped over the young mans shoulders. I watched these four for a very long time, they seemed to be very familiar with one another.
It was only when i ran into them again this time polarized in thier cultural groups. The Montagnard pair grouped with a parental figure and younger sibling speaking thier own language, and physically communicating with a very specific body language;the women speaking with thier hands either neatly folded or held at thier sides, while the men stood some what apart from the women and spoke with a slight emphasis in torso posture that would rival that of any NCSA Ballet major.
My trip concluded with a walk throughout the park area, listening to the music being played on the near by stage. A song rang out over the loud speaker, it was simply named "Refugee" the lyrics were easy to remember but hard and alien for me to say:
Its hard...
Its hard...
Its hard...
Being a refugee...
Refugee!
Refugee!
Too too far away from home...
(Repeat)
These words pierced through the audience and for one moment I felt alien and out of place. The Montagnard booths, the South African booths, South East Asia booth, Pakistan, Poland, and every booth in between was raptured into this song. They were all refugees, escaping to refuge here in the United states of America.
It was here that it hit me. We were all very different, culturally, religiousl, ethnically, but we all, the americans in the audience as well have all experienced in one way or another what it is to be displaced, rather its New Orleans with Katrina. England the Puritans, or Haiti we have all had to come together and live and learn from one another. This is what makes America-AMERICA. I am pleased to add the Montagnards and thier culture and customs to our wonderful melting pot.
